


The Way Home

by rowdyhooligan



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol, Drunken Confessions, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-19 20:13:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17008431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rowdyhooligan/pseuds/rowdyhooligan
Summary: Too much alcohol unexpectedly leads to secrets coming to light.





	The Way Home

**Author's Note:**

> cross-posted from tumblr: written for @faith-in-dean BMoL Writing Challenge. My prompts were #4. “I’m not as think as you’re drunk!” and #13. “What happened to us? We used to be so close.”

With the monster dead and innocent civilians safe, you hit ‘Send’ on your report, pleased with another successful hunt. Honestly, typing up the debriefing took longer than the actual hunt; the siren was no match for the latest tech provided by Alton and his crew. Stretching the kinks out of your back from sitting hunched over your laptop, you took another sip of the aged whiskey Mick had the foresight to bring along. 

You could hear the water running in his suite, adjacent to your own. Ever since his little werewolf hunt with the Winchester brothers, he’d been insistent on getting more experience in the field, tagging along on your hunts whenever his duties would allow time. Not that you minded- you’d been friends for years, before you were sent to America to scout the local talent pool of hunters.

When you’d received the news that he would be leading a team stateside, you were thrilled. Unfortunately, your responsibilities often kept you separated; while you were busy hunting, he was stuck at the compound, juggling the prickly personalities of his team and the American hunters. Having him come along on the occasional hunt brought its own kind of anxiety; Mick wasn’t experienced in combat, as you well knew. The last thing you wanted was for him to get hurt.

Packing up your laptop, you decided drinking alone in your hotel room wasn’t the ideal way to celebrate. The hotel lounge seemed a marginally better option; hopefully they’d have a decent selection available. Having showered as soon as you returned to your room, you were clean of grime from the hunt and wasted no time slipping out of your pajamas and into something a little less comfortable.

Zipping up the back of a little black dress usually worn only when you were summoned before Dr. Hess and the other elders, you kept your makeup light and hairdo simple. The whole outfit screamed muted elegance. The finishing touch was the necklace you always wore; an understated piece shaped like a star, it was a gift from Mick when you left for America. ‘So you could always find your way home’ he’d said.

Giving yourself a lookover, you nodded in satisfaction with the result. Grabbing your wallet, you double-checked to make sure you had your room key and credit card. Glancing toward Mick’s room one last time, you noted the lack of running water. The thought of inviting him along flitted across your mind but you hesitated, unsure of how he’d interpret the gesture.

There’d always been… _something_ …between the two of you, something that hadn’t faded away while you were separated by an ocean. Now that you were both stateside, that something only grew stronger, more palpable the more time you spent together. It left you equal parts thrilled and terrified, so you said nothing and pushed it down deep. Facing down the monsters of the world was easy compared to confronting matters of the heart.

Shoulders squared, you marched past his door and headed down to the lounge alone. It wasn’t all that late in the evening, just past eight. There were a few people scattered here and there, a few families and a handful of other individuals out for a solitary drink. Sidling up to the bar, it wasn’t long before you had the bartender’s attention and soon a glass of whiskey sat in front of you. Sipping at it, you couldn’t help comparing it to the far superior bottle you’d left upstairs.

You hadn’t planned to do much more than people watch, but that hadn’t accounted for the overly attentive bartender Bryan. With those stormy gray eyes, that chiseled jaw, and pecs for days, he carried himself with the air of someone used to people fawning all over him. Brash and cocky, he made no secret of his attraction to you, flirting at every opportunity. Uninterested, you drank a little faster- you’d come down here to unwind from the hunt, not get hit on.

Bryan whisked away your empty glass, placing another in front of you. “On the house,” he said with a wink before turning to take someone else’s order.

Rolling your eyes at his attitude, you accepted the drink as payment for putting up with his persistent flirting. Warmth curled in your belly as the alcohol began to take effect, your limbs tingling as a pleasant buzz filled you. The second glass of sub-par whiskey went down quicker than the first, and you were straddling the border between tipsy and drunk by the time it was taken away.

You blinked owlishly when a third glass was set in front of you. Bryan- having finally noticed your disinterest- had moved on to a more receptive blonde, stepping away from their banter long enough to nod toward the far corner of the lounge. “From the gentleman.”

Turning sluggishly in your seat, it took a moment to focus your eyes. Mick sat at a table by himself, eyes fixed on you. Something about his expression seemed off, and your curiosity got the better of you. Sliding off of the barstool, you had to take a moment to steady yourself lest you fall over. The tiny part of your brain still sober chastised you for drinking so much so quickly. Of course, that didn’t stop you from clutching your third whiskey tight as you carefully made your way over to Mick.

“I can see I made a mistake ordering you another,” he said by way of greeting. “How many have you had?”

“Down here or in my room?” you asked, speaking slowly so as not to slur your words.

“In total.”

You had to think, struggling through the fog in your head. “Three…? No, four. I think.”

“Fou- alright, why don’t you had that over and we can get you some water,” he suggested, reaching for your glass.

“No,” you pulled back. Some of the whiskey sloshed over the rim of the glass, not that you noticed. “I’m not as think as you’re drunk!”

Mick heaved a sigh, exasperation growing on his face. “Come on, love, just hand it over please and I’ll take you up to bed.”

The very idea of Mick ‘taking you to bed’ was enough to thrill  and scandalize you, and with the alcohol flowing through your system, your internal filter was nonexistent. “Mick, I never knew you could be so bold!”

“Wha- no, that’s not- I meant so you could sleep it off. Right, you’ve definitely had enough to drink.”

He reached for the glass again, but you beat him to the punch. Shooting back the remaining whiskey, you spluttered when some went down the wrong pipe. The temperature of the room seemed to rocket up ten degrees as the alcohol hit your system. Setting the empty glass down with a heavy thunk, you swayed in your seat, giving Mick a satisfied smile. He pinched the bridge of his nose, equal parts annoyed and amused. In all the years you’d known each other, he’d never seen you this drunk before. It was somewhat endearing.

Or it would be, if you weren’t such an unpredictable drunk. Abruptly rising to your feet, you grabbed hold of the table for support and waited for the room to stop spinning before announcing, “It’s as hot as hades in here- I think I’m going to go for a swim.”

“No, no that is definitely not a good idea.”

He tried to follow after you, but one of the waiters held him up, reminding him that you had yet to pay your bill. Mick hastily slapped down a few twenties, shoving past the waiter and beelined for the hotel’s outdoor swimming pool. It was easy to find you; he simply had to follow the trail of clothes left in your wake. He found first one shoe, and then the other, hastily discarded on your way to the pool. His face flushed crimson when he found your dress by the patio doors leading to the pool.

Outside, the stars shone like diamonds in the velvet sky, the brilliant white burning bright among the navy blues and grays and blacks. The dim lights illuminating the pool did nothing to detract from the beauty of the sky above. A warm breeze ruffled his hair as he searched for you. There was no one else in the area, and he hadn’t heard a splash indicating you’d actually jumped in.

It took him a minute to locate you, sprawled out on one of the lounge chairs in only your bra and panties. You stared up at the sky, entranced by the stars. To your alcohol addled mind, they looked like fireflies dancing across the inky heavens. You murmured something about wishing you could fly up and join them, the slurred words catching Mick’s attention. He quickly rushed to your side, mindful of the puddles- the last thing he needed right now was to slip and knock his head.

“Come on, love, you can’t be out here in your…undergarments.” He held out your dress, a pleading look in his eyes. “Why don’t we go back up to the rooms, yeah?”

“Do you ever wish you could fly, Mick? Like a bird or an angel?” you asked, ignoring the dress. “I do sometimes. To just…fly away from it all. No more elders, no more orders, or Code. Just…freedom. Just the stars.”

“Careful,” Mick cautioned, looking around instinctively. He was stunned to hear you complain about your lot in life- you’d never mentioned anything before. “Those are dangerous words.”

“‘s okay,” you insisted, patting the chair so he would sit next to you. “You feel the same way, I see it in your eyes.”

Mick sucked in a startled breath. You rolled over to face him, eyes cloudy with sleep and inebriation. But there was something in your expression that saw to the very heart of him, to the secret he thought he’d so carefully locked away: he  _was_  tired of it. He was tired of the death and the lies. Tired of taking orders without question, no matter his personal feelings. The things he’d done…the things he’d ordered others to do…it weighed at him.

Forcing your heavy lids open, you reached out, gently running a hand down his arm. Mick allowed himself to be coaxed into laying beside you, setting your shoes aside and draping your dress over your partially clothed form. You curled into him, relishing his warmth and scent as they surrounded you. Mick’s arms wound around your waist and shoulders, holding you tight to him, and for a moment, you both could pretend that you were two normal people, without a care in the world.

“What happened to us, Mick?” you asked tiredly. “We used to be so close.”

He was silent as he contemplated his answer. “Life, I suppose. This life.”

“I miss you,” you confessed quietly. “I miss us.”

“…I miss us too,” he mumbled into your temple, pressing a tentative kiss into your hair.

“D’we have to go back?” you asked wistfully.

“I’m afraid so. I wish to God we didn’t.”

“Me too. ‘cause then you’ll be back to running command and I’ll be out in the field when all I want is to be with you.”

“I want that too, love, more than anything. I’ve wanted that for years.”

You gazed at him through blurry eyes. “You never said anything.”

“How could I? I was astonished you- this gorgeous, brilliant woman- even wanted my friendship. I never let myself hope for anything more. The only reason I can say anything now is I know you won’t remember it in the morning.”

“Then remind me,” you pleaded softly. “Remind me tomorrow- I don’t want to forget this.”

Mick had to think long and hard before responding. On the one hand, he was terrified of taking your relationship to the next level. He didn’t want to lose your friendship should things not work out between you. On the other, he wanted nothing more than to have this with you all the time, not just when you were drunk enough to be open with him. Unsure, he opened his mouth to speak when the glint of starlight reflecting off the necklace he’d given you caught his attention; he had never seen you without it.

“Mick, promise me. Say we’ll be together.”

“I’ll always be with you, love.” He brought his hand up, tracing the outline of your necklace. “I’ll always lead you home.”


End file.
